


Firelight

by Leela



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-11
Updated: 2011-12-11
Packaged: 2017-10-27 05:01:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/291844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leela/pseuds/Leela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For some people, celebrations can go on for too long.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Firelight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Woldy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Woldy/gifts).



> **Beta** : batdina, eeyore9990
> 
>  **A/N** : Written for woldy for her 2011 Informal HP Femslash Exchange, which is a lovely low-stress holiday exchange for her flist members. I chose to write her second wish: Amelia/Minerva, a hot toddy (or maybe more than one).

"You're late." To Amelia's amusement, Minerva didn't bother looking up from her book when Amelia stepped out of the Floo. By the time Amelia had Banished the lingering soot off her work robes, Minerva was sipping her tea.

"I missed you too, dear," Amelia said and gave her a fond smile. A few years earlier, she might have fallen for Minerva's act, but not now, not when Minerva was already in her dressing gown with her hair in a loose bun at the nape of her neck.

"Who caused the delay this time?" Minerva asked, putting her mug back on the side table. "Did Alastor hallucinate another boggart in the filing cabinet?"

A crack echoed through the air, and a flash of light illuminated their sitting room in bright reds and purples. Amelia had her wand drawn and had moved to stand between the window and Minerva before she'd finished processing and identifying which spells might have been cast.

"Do put that away before you hex one of the neighbourhood children." Paper rustled as Minerva flipped the page. "Fireworks for Yule," she said, "and for celebrating Voldemort's demise."

"Oh, for Morgana's sake, it's been a couple of months since Harry defeated the bastard. Can't they be bloody well done with it already?" Amelia bent her head and focussed on her wand and the white-knuckled grip she had on it. Shivers built up at the base of her spine, cold and fierce, as she fought back the memories, the rage, and the urge to hurt someone, anyone, for revelling in death.

Before Amelia found even the smallest measure of control, Minerva came to stand behind her. "They're innocent," Minerva said.

"They have no right—" There was another bang outside, and the room was splashed with silver and blue. Amelia trembled with the urge to fight back against the non-existent threat.

Minerva clicked her tongue against her teeth. "And here I was thinking that we fought to ensure they didn't know better than to celebrate their lives and freedom."

"But I want them to know, to understand," Amelia said, feeling helpless against the sorrow and sense of absolute failure that swept over them. "So many sacrifices. So many friends and strangers lost." She squeezed her eyes shut against the pain that threatened to swamp her again.

Minerva ran her hands over Amelia's upper arms and waited, a comforting presence at Amelia's back.

"Alice and Frank. James and Lily. Poor little Harry," Amelia finally said. "Oh, Minerva, how're we supposed to forgive them for that?"

"I don't know." The words were a mere breath against Amelia's short brown hair. "But we have to try."

Turning around, Amelia slipped her arms around Minerva's waist and pressed into her embrace, leaning her forehead against Minerva's shoulder. The flannel of Minerva's tartan dressing gown was soft and comforting against Amelia's skin. "I'm not sure I know how," she admitted. "I miss them all, but James... oh, Minerva, he could have done so much."

The fireworks growled like thunder and arched through the room like a rainbow.

The sounds and colours trapped the rest of the words inside Amelia, beyond her ability to say them aloud. Words about James being like a son to her, about loving him and wanting to watch him grow into all the promise and mature beyond the stupid childish resentments that had landed him in so much trouble over the years, even as an Auror.

"Aye," Minerva said.

The single, gruff syllable went through Amelia like benediction and acceptance. She squeezed her arms around Minerva, raised her head, and stepped back.

"Go on up and get out of those things." Minerva indicated the severely cut robes that Amelia wore like a uniform to the Ministry every day. "And I'll organise something to warm us through."

*

When Amelia came back downstairs, the curtains were drawn, the candles dimmed, and the fire was high enough that Minerva must have warded the Floo. A black cauldron hung on a hook off to the side of the fire, and the room smelled of cinnamon, nutmeg, and lemon, the sweetness of honey and the sharp bite of whisky.

Minerva was sitting on the floor next to the hearth. Her hair hung loose, reaching nearly to her waist, the grey and silver strands that were visible amongst the black giving her an air of vulnerability.

After making sure her dressing gown was tied securely, Amelia knelt down next to Minerva. She took a deep breath. "Smells glorious."

"Great granny couldn't cook much, but she made a mean hot toddy," Minerva said, handing Amelia a glass.

They sat and looked at each other for a moment and then touched their glasses in a silent toast. The flavoured whisky began to warm Amelia the minute it touched her tongue, heat spreading through her as she swallowed.

The first toddy went down easily, and Minerva refilled both their glasses, setting them on the hearth to keep warm. She brought a hand up to Amelia's face, running her fingertips over her thick eyebrows, down her cheeks and then along her jaw line before kissing her.

Minerva tasted sweet and sharp, of home and power, safety and lust. _Intoxicating_ , Amelia thought, as she slid her hands through Minerva's hair and sucked on her lower lip. As they lay down on the thick rug in front of the fire, their bodies fitting together with ease. Amelia could, she knew, kiss and touch Minerva for hours.

But then Minerva made a noise of annoyance and pulled back. "Bloody glasses, always getting in the way," she said, throwing them carefully onto the seat of the nearest chair.

"Just don't sit on them later." Amelia laughed as she drew Minerva back down.

Rising up on one elbow, she caressed the soft skin of Minerva's neck and then pressed her lips to the hollow of her throat, tracing her tongue over the semi-circular notch and the bumps that marked the ends of Minerva's prominent collarbones.

"Darling," Amelia said, meaning so much more, and Minerva's legs parted, welcoming her, accepting Amelia and all the things that she could never say.


End file.
